С Рождеством любимая (Merry Christmas Darling)
by Dancingqueen4Life
Summary: A series of one-shots about the Christmases Natasha and Clint shared, each chapter is the name of a Christmas carol, or a play on one. It's a companion to my story Happy Birthday Dear. The first one-shot takes place before the first birthday mentioned in Happy Birthday Dear. Please read and review!
1. The 12 Days of Christmas

**This is their first Christmas as a partnership. It takes place the Christmas before the first birthday shown in my other fic, Happy Birthday Dear.**

**Enjoy. :)**

**Year One: The 12 Days of Christmas**

If there was one thing that Natasha Romanoff _really_ hated celebrating, it was Christmas. Christmas was a time for family, for friends, and for love.  
Natasha didn't have Family. She hadn't had a family since she was 6, and the Red Room took her family.  
Natasha didn't have friends. Friends meant that you had to trust someone, and there was only one person that she _kind of_ trusted. And she didn't know why.  
And then there's love. Love is for children. That's been her motto since she was 10, and watched all the girls her age die in the Red Room.

So, needless to say, when Christmas morning finally rolled around, she wasn't up for celebrating. She slept in late, and spent most of her time in the training center. She was heading back to her quarters, when she head Clint yell her name.

Seriously. He didn't seem to realize that she wanted to be _alone_ sometimes.

"Romanoff!"  
"What, Barton?"  
"Merry Christmas!"  
"I don't see what's merry about it."  
Clint looked slightly upset, but did his best not to let it show.  
"Oh."

Natasha just stared at him, wondering if he was going to say anything else. She was turning to continue walking towards her quarters when Barton's brain seemed to turn back on.

"Well, even if you don't celebrate Christmas, I got you a present anyway. Since we're partners and whatnot."  
"You got me a birthday present _and _a Christmas present?"  
Barton seemed confused, and hurt, by her question, but nodded, and held out the package.  
"I got that because your birthday had passed, and I didn't know. You don't need to get me anything in return. Sorry."

As soon as Natasha took the gift from him, he turned, and walked away from her. She looked at his retreating form for a moment, before smiling to herself as she entered her room.

Just like he had done for her birthday present, Barton had attached a note to the outside of the present:

_Natasha-_

_I didn't know if you celebrated Christmas or not, but I thought I'd get you something anyways. If you don't like them, that's fine, just, please don't burn them. You can shove them in the back of your dresser or whatever, or you can return them, just please don't destroy them._

_-Clint_

The heartfelt note made Natasha think back to their discussion in the hallway. He'd tried to conceal the hurt he felt when she asked why he'd gotten her two presents, and he would have fooled most people, but Natasha wasn't most people. She hated hurting people when she didn't have to.

She opened the gift bag, and pulled out a pair of socks. They were the kind of socks that had a place for each toe. But more than that, they were _Christmas_ socks, and if the tag was to be believed, they _sang_.

She was curious as to how a pair of socks could sing, so she pushed the button. The music that came out of them made her laugh softly. She tired to hide the smile, but she realized she was in her room, and no one was around to witness that the Black Widow was showing emotion.

She made up her mind that she liked exchanging presents with Barton, which meant she needed a way to make it up to him. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings, which she assumed he knew, but she still felt the need to make it right.

But that would have to wait until the next day. It was late, and she was tired. She pulled on her pajamas, and crawled under the covers. Just as she was about to fall asleep, she sat up, and reached for the socks. She smiled to herself as she pulled them on her feet, and smiled at how soft they were. She snuggled into the cocoon of warmth she had created, and fell asleep humming the song from the socks.

She slept peacefully that night, thinking that maybe, just maybe, she had a reason to celebrate Christmas from now on.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Clint was humming softly to himself as he made his way back from target practice. He didn't care that Christmas had been 2 days ago; he still enjoyed the songs. It was really the main reason he liked Christmas, he didn't have any fond memories of Christmas as a child; his father had made sure of that. But he had always loved the songs, and he loved being able to give presents to people he considered friends- and there weren't that many. He thought it was risky giving Natasha a Christmas present. A birthday present was fine, acceptable even. But Christmas was making too many assumptions.

He thought he was being nice, that it was something partners did, but her question had made him wonder. After he'd given her the gift, he'd felt like an idiot; he really only meant for the socks to be a joke, but based on her mood, she'd probably think they were the stupidest things she'd ever seen. It was bad enough she thought he was in love with her.

He finally arrived back at his room, and was surprised when he saw Natasha standing outside his door.

She looked up at him when she heard him approaching, and a small smile crossed her face.

Clint nodded at her "Romanoff."  
The smile on Natasha's face faltered for a moment, before she managed to stick another one on her face. Clint noticed, and saw that the new smile looked forced. That was also when he realized that Natasha Romanoff had given him a real, genuine smile, and he'd brushed it off. God he was stupid.

"Thanks for the socks, Clint. I'm sorry for the way I acted. I hope this makes up for it a little."

She handed him the thin box she'd been holding, before walking away quickly.

Clint watched her walk away, and felt a weird pull at his heart. He shoved the feeling aside, before he stepped into his room. He sat on his desk chair, and pulled the note off the box

_Barton-_

_I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings. I'm not used to having a reason to celebrate Christmas, and it never occurred to me that someone else might enjoy it._

_Also, I find that I really like this tradition we've started, and I'd like to continue it, if it's ok with you. If so, I hope that this will cover for both your birthday that I missed, and Christmas. If not, let me know, and I'll get you something to make up for it on your next birthday._

_-Natasha_

_P.S. I liked the socks, they were very entertaining._

Clint smiled at the note. Natasha was tough, but he now knew that she cared when she hurt someone's feelings unintentionally. He was glad that she wanted the 'tradition' to continue, and decided that whatever she had gotten him would make up for the birthday she had missed.

He set the not aside, and pulled the lid off the box, and smiled as he pulled out the tie.

It was a Christmas tie, with reindeer and Santa and elves. He also saw that it was a _singing_ tie, which made it even better to him. He pushed the button for the song to play, and _Carol of the Bells _started playing. It was his favorite Christmas song, so he had it play a few times.

When he was done, he walked over to his closet, and hung it up with the rest of the ties he owned.

_I now have a grand total of 3 ties_. He thought to himself with a smile.

He didn't particularly like ties, unless he had a good reason to.

_And I have a very good reason to like this one_.

**So, do you like it? I figured that they would exchange gifts at Christmastime too, so I figured, why not write about it?**

**The version of 12 days of christmas i was thinking of is done by Straight No Chaser, a very funny A Cappella group, they have videos on youtube, and a few cds as well. Go give their version of this a listen, methinks you'll be glad you did.**

**Reviews are nice, and they make me happy. You should write one. :)**


	2. Walking With You in the Russian Snow

**Year Two: Walking With You in the Russian Snow**

_One week before Christmas:_

"Sir, with all due respect, that's fucking insane."  
"Barton."  
"Romanoff, you know as well as I do that the assignment is fucking insane."  
"_Barton_."  
Clint finally shut up, and Natasha was glad. Yes, she was pissed with Fury, but she wasn't going to go on about it. And she certainly wasn't going to tell the man that he was fucking insane. Even if he was insane.

"Say what you'd like, Barton. You're still going."  
"But, sir, it's _Christmas_."  
"Oh, well, if it's _Christmas, _then all the mad scientists are going to stop what their doing. Don't know why I didn't think of that before."  
Clint just gave Fury a look, finally realizing that he wasn't going to win the argument.

"That's what I thought. You two are excused. Your plane leaves in one hour, go pack."  
The agents nodded, and left the room. As soon as the door shut behind them, Natasha turned on Clint, and punched his arm

"Ow! The hell was that for?"  
"It's bad enough we're going on a mission for 2 weeks. Do you want him to make it longer?!"  
"No!"  
"Then don't tell the man he's an idiot!"  
Clint sighed, before turning to go back to his quarters. Natasha stared after him for a moment, before making her way to her own quarters.

She didn't really mind that they were going on a mission over Christmas, despite the fact that SHIELD agents usually had Christmas and New Year's off. What she minded was _where_ the mission was.

Russia.

She shuddered involuntarily. She hadn't been back to Russia since Clint had gotten her out, and she wasn't exactly excited to go back. The Red Room was as strong as ever, and she was worried that they'd find her and kill her or make her come back.

It wouldn't have been so bad, if she hadn't been with SHIELD for over a year. Now she knew that there was a right way to be an assassin, as strange as it sounded.

Plus, she hated the cold.

She entered her quarters, and got her duffle bag out of the closet, and started to pack. She put her suit on, under a sweatshirt and sweatpants. She threw another pair into the duffle, along with jeans and long sleeve shirts. She added two nice dresses, just in case. She loaded in her guns, and on a whim, added the bullets that Clint had given her for her birthday. She's gone to the firing range and shot a few rounds, and found that she quite liked the destruction they caused. She added some regular bullets as well, just in case.

She was just leaving her room to go to the hanger, when she remembered one of the few things she'd brought with her from Russia. She turned back to her closet, and took out her fur coat she'd been wearing when Clint had almost killed her.

Satisfied that she had everything she needed, she picked up her bag, and made her way to the hanger.

Clint was already there when she arrived, and he gave the coat a confused look.

"You've clearly never been to Russia in the winter. I'll be lucky if this keeps me warm."  
Clint nodded at her, but didn't say anything. They boarded the plane, and took their seats.

The trip to Russia was long, and they didn't speak much. It wasn't anything new for them; they functioned better in silence anyway.  
They arrived in Russia around 10 p.m., and made their way to the safe house they'd be occupying.

It was a small house, more like a cabin really. There was a kitchen, a small living area, and a bedroom. With a double bed.

"I call bed."  
Clint looked at his partner, and nodded.  
Natasha threw her things on the bed, before stripping out of her cat suit. Clint averted his eyes like a gentleman, and Natasha laughed

"I'm sure you've seen it all before, Clint."  
Clint didn't answer, choosing to keep his back to her as he pulled on his sweats. He found some extra blankets in a cupboard, and Natasha gave him one of the pillows on the bed. He laid out the blankets in a makeshift bed, and crawled under them, falling asleep almost instantly.

Natasha looked at him, and smiled at her partner. They'd come a long way the last year, and Natasha had finally decided that she trusted him more than _kind of_. The fact that he was sleeping on the floor by the door, incase anyone came in, proved that he was going to protect her. She'd never had anyone do that before.

She sighed as she climbed into bed, and snuggled under the covers, falling asleep instantly.

The first week passed by smoothly, there were no major issues, but Clint finally determined that Natasha had been smart to bring her fur coat.

They spent Christmas day together, since the mark was spending the day with his family.

Natasha woke and noticed that Clint wasn't in the room, but she didn't really think much of it. She went into the bathroom for a hot shower, and when she came back to the bedroom, she found a gift on the foot of the bed.

She walked over to it, and smiled when she saw the note attached. She carefully pulled the note off the package and opened it

_Natasha-_

_I was walking around on our first day here, and I found a shop that was selling these. I realize that there are probably a lot of shops that sell these, as they're seen as a very Russian thing, but whatever. I also realize that you may already have one, but on the off chance that you didn't, I wanted you to. I know you don't like being here, and I get it, but you _are_ Russian, and I hope this lets you embrace that._

_-Clint_

The note confused her slightly, but she opened the box nonetheless. Inside she found a Matryoshka doll. She felt tears coming, and did her best not to let them fall.

Clint's note had been right, but it had also been wrong. She did have one, but it had been destroyed in the fire that killed her parents. They had gotten it for her, and she spent her childhood days playing endlessly with it.

The fact that Clint paid enough attention to know that she was uncomfortable in Russia, to the point that he'd buy her something that could be considered a child's toy to make her feel better, gave her a warm, happy feeling.

She was terrified by the feeling, and instantly pushed it aside. She decided that she needed to thank Clint, so she grabbed his present, and made her way out to the kitchen, where she fond him eating breakfast.

She walked up to him, and gave him a hug. He was startled at first, but returned it anyway.

"Thank you, Clint. Thank you so much." Natasha mumbled into his chest.  
"You're welcome."

When she pulled away, he thought he saw tear tracks on her cheeks. The sight made his heart ache, so he gave her a small smile, which she returned.

"I'm going out for a walk. I'll be back in 15 minutes."  
Clint nodded, and watched as Natasha left the cabin, bundled in her fur.

He chuckled at the sight, before turning back to his breakfast. He was just about to pick up his spoon again, when he noticed the box sitting by his food. He was puzzled; he hadn't seen Natasha put it there, but he figured she must have.

He pulled the note off it, and read it

_Clint-_

_First of all, thank you. I'll never say it to your face, so don't expect me to. You gave me a reason to celebrate Christmas, which I'll be grateful for always. I didn't know what to get you as a gift, so when I had a chance, I slipped into town and perused the market. I have this feeling that something major is going to happen during this mission, so I wanted you to have something to remember it with._

_I hope this is it._

_-Natasha_

Clint smiled at the note, glad that he'd been able to thaw some of the ice that surrounded her heart.

He picked up the box, which was a little heavy, and opened it.

Inside, was a snow globe with St. Basil's Cathedral as the focal point. He shook the snow globe and smiled as it snowed on the Cathedral.

When Natasha returned from her walk, she found him still staring at it, with a ridiculous grin on his face.

"Just remember, it's St. Basil's Cathedral, _not_ the Kremlin."  
Clint nodded, and put the globe on the counter, before turning and giving her a hug.

"Thanks, Nat."  
"Clint. Don't call me that, my name's Natasha. Not Nat, or Tash, or Tasha."  
Clint sighed, but nodded.

"What would you say if I told you that when this mission was done, I'd take you to the cathedral?"  
Natasha's smile faded instantly, replaced by a look of sheer terror.

"No."  
"What? Why not."  
"NO!"  
"Ok, I'm sorry. We won't go. I just- I just thought it'd would be nice, but if you don't want to, then we don't have to."

She could tell that she had hurt his feelings, and she felt truly horrible. She knew she should tell him _why_ she'd said no, but she couldn't bring herself to force the words out.

"Sorry." She whispered before going back to the bedroom.

Clint decided to give her some time alone, but after a few hours, he decided that he wanted to have a snowball fight.

Natasha agreed, after making Clint explain the rules. He was surprised that she didn't know what it was, of course, but her eyes lit up when he said that she was able to throw things at him.

They made their way outside, and the fight commenced. For someone who had never engaged in a snowball fight, she was fairly decent at actually making snowballs.

Natasha ended up winning, mostly due to the fact that Clint's foot had gotten caught in a hole, and he couldn't move. Once he declared her the winner, she helped him out, and they made their way back to the cabin. She started a fire in the fireplace, and they sat in front of it together, staring at the fire.

Clint was the first to break the silence

"I saw that flip you did. Why didn't I know you did gymnastics?"  
Natasha looked at him, and shrugged before answering

"I don't like to talk about it."  
"Were you any good?"  
Natasha gave him a wry laugh, but answered anyway

"Yeah, I was _really good._ Once the Red Room decided that I was special, they started giving me private lessons. About 2 years in, they realized I had a natural talent, and I think that scared them."  
"Scared them? Why?"  
"They weren't intending for me to become a gymnast. I was trained to become a killer, and they thought I would grow soft if I loved something."  
"Oh."  
"One day, I had learned that Béla Károlyi was holding a competition to find girls he wanted to train. I wanted to go, more than I had ever wanted anything before, and the Red Room could tell. Instead of letting me go, they sent me on a mission."

Natasha grew silent, and Clint gave her a look

"Natasha? You don't have to finish if you don't want to."  
Natasha smiled, sighed, and continued

"I was told to assassinate a drug dealer. I wasn't allowed to use weapons; I had to snap his neck. I think they thought I couldn't manage it, that they had realized that I was still strong willed, despite the brain washing, and they thought that he'd be able to kill me. But I was small, and he didn't see me as a threat. He had children, I knew, and I used that to my advantage. I pretended that I'd been hurt, and when he came over to see if I was ok, I jumped up, and snapped his neck. It took seconds really. Then I made my way back to the Red Room, and found that they were surprised to see me. After that, I only used gymnastics to get out of tricky situations, and gave up on pursuing it."  
Clint looked shocked, but not altogether surprised.

"How old were you, Natasha?"  
She sighed, and looked up from where she'd been staring at the ground. Her emerald eyes were wide, and her voice was barely above a whisper when she answered

"13."

Clint's look of shock evaporated into pure anger in a flash, and he had to remind himself that he wasn't mad at her; otherwise his response would have come out as a yell.

"They made you kill a drug dealer when you were _thirteen_?"  
Natasha nodded, as she tried to figure out why he looked so livid.

Clint closed his eyes, and tried to get his emotions under control. It took him a moment, but he was finally able to manage

"Sorry."  
Natasha's response was a sad smile. She shrugged

"Don't worry about it."

Clint nodded at her, and reached out to give her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Clint, can I explain something to you?"  
Clint looked a little taken aback, but nodded anyways.

"It's about my reaction to your proposition this morning."  
"Natasha, you don't have to explain. I made an assumption, and I shouldn't have."  
"But I want to explain."

Clint was surprised, but did his best not to let it show, as he nodded for her to continue.

"I want to go see St. Basil's Cathedral. You have no idea how much I want to go. But since it's a major tourist place, the Red Room has security cameras covering every inch of it. That's where they find a good number of the targets they send people to kill. If we go there, the cameras will see my face, and I'll be recognized instantly. Red Room agents would be on me in seconds, literally, and I don't want to put you in that much danger."  
Clint smiled, before he responded

"How long would it take for the cameras to recognize you?"  
"Two minutes, maybe. But someone's always watching. And the Red Room regularly updates agents on the most wanted people. And I've been top of the list for a while. Although, from what I heard, I was always on the capture-don't-kill list, but that probably changed."  
Clint nodded in defeat.

"I'm sorry Clint. I really am. There's no one else I'd rather see it with than you. But I just can't."  
With that, Natasha stood up and told him she was going to bed.

He nodded, just as his brain fully comprehended what she'd told him.

His eyes lit up, and an idea struck him. He whipped his phone out, and stepped outside. Once the door had closed, he dialed the number he'd memorized long ago.

Two rings later, the person answered

"What can I do for you, Barton?"  
"Phil, remember when you said you owed me?"  
"Vaguely."  
"Good. I'm calling in that favor now."

**Oh, cliffhanger! Don't fret; I'll be finishing this chapter soon, as most of it's already written in my head. **

**I decided to do this one a little differently, because the birthday one-shots have some details of what happens on this mission, and I wanted the full background to be available.**

**This song is sung by Celine Dion. It's called Christmas Eve, and the titles for this chapter and the next are a play on two lines from the chorus.**

**Reviews are nice. You should write one. :)**


	3. People Dying Everywhere We Go

**Year Two (part 2): People Dying Everywhere We Go**

The days following Christmas were going as smoothly as could be expected. The target was playing right into Natasha's very capable hands, and Clint didn't have much work to do.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

His thoughts were confirmed three days before they were to be done. The target was getting antsy. Natasha was doing her best to convince him to sell all his product to her, and the first week and a half had been going to plan. Suddenly, he told her he'd found a new buyer, and the buyer wanted to meet the competition.

"Widow, don't do it." Clint said into his comms.

"That's fine. Where are we meeting him?"

"Natasha!" Clint cursed under his breath, and listened closely, so he could have her back.

20 minutes later, Clint was lurking in the shadows across from the warehouse they were meeting the new buyer in. he had a clear line of sight into the building, and so far, Natasha was still alive. He wasn't sure she would be once the buyer arrived.

Speak of the devil, a car pulled up in front of the building, and a man got out, presumably the new buyer. He walked into the warehouse, and his eyes fell on Natasha.

"Well, well, well. Look at what you captured. You've got yourself a Black Widow."  
"As soon as the words were out of the man's mouth, Clint was running towards the door, desperate to get his partner out.

Natasha kept her face blank, but inside, she was reeling. She _really _needed to listen to Barton's orders more often.

The mark was looking between his new buyer and Natasha, a look of disbelief mixed with fear on his face.

"Black widow?"

"Isn't that right, Natalia?"  
The use of her given name was like a slap to the face for Natasha. This man knew her, that much was painfully obvious. That's when it clicked. His father was the drug dealer she had killed all those years ago. Her first in a long line of murders.

"Ah, I see she recognizes me. How does it feel, Natalia, to look the son of the man you killed in the eye? How is it being back in your home country?"

Natasha's head was spinning, but she knew she had to play cool, and wait for Barton to come get her.

"I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Natasha, and I'm from New York."  
"Oh, I see you've been trained haven't you? Well, it won't really matter once you're dead, will it?"  
Natasha forced herself to keep up the confused look, while she was internally freaking out. _Now would be a really good time to use that poison I gave you, Clint._

He pulled her off the pile of shipping crates she was sitting on, and threw her into a wall.

Before she could help herself, she was cursing. In Russian. _Shit. Might as well cut the act. I'm fucked anyways._

She gave a wry laugh as she pulled herself off the floor

"Are you going to kill me? Are you going to get revenge on your Daddy?"

She saw anger flicker in the man's eyes. That was good. Anger made people sloppy. Before she had a chance to run at him however, he was on the ground with an arrow in his throat.

_About damn time Barton_.

She made her way back to her target, and decided to snap his neck. It would keep him off the streets anyways. Then she took the merchandise with her, and made a quick exit. She was just reaching the door when she felt something rip through her leg. She turned around, and found the dealer pointing his gun at her. She was about to pull her gun out when he flopped back onto the ground, an arrow in his eye socket.

She looked back towards the door, and saw Clint holding his bow. She smiled, and followed him out of the warehouse, trying not to wince at the pain in her leg. It wasn't so bad, nothing major was hit, and she'd had worse before. But as they were closing in on the safe house, she found it increasingly difficult to walk, and she was getting slightly lightheaded.

Clint noticed, and swung his bow so that his hands were free, and scooped her into his arms, and continued on their way. She would have protested, but this way, she was able to sleep.

"Natasha, open your eyes. We're almost there. Then I can fix it, ok?"

Damn. Apparently she wasn't going to be sleeping.

She nodded, and did her best to keep her eyes open.

They arrived at the safe house quickly, and Clint took her into the bathroom to fix her leg. He pulled out the first aid kit, and started cleaning the wound. There was no exit, so he'd have to dig the bullet out. He looked at her in apology, before he disappeared. He returned carrying a bottle of vodka.

"Thanks." Natasha tried to take it from him, but he ignored her, and poured some on the wound to sterilize it.

"SHIT! Fuck, Barton. A little warning would have been nice."  
Clint chuckled "Sorry, this may hurt a little. That sufficient?"  
Natasha just glared at him, before yanking the alcohol out of his grasp, and swallowing a few mouthfuls.

Clint stared at her in shock. He'd had some of the vodka the night before, _one_ mouthful had been slightly painful, but she was _gulping_ it down.

Natasha caught his stare, and chuckled at his expression

"Clint, I'm Russian. This is vodka. Russian vodka by the taste. It's not going to be able to do anything to me. It's for comfort."

Clint rolled his eyes, before removing a needle and sterilizing it with the lighter he always kept on him.

Natasha looked at the needle, and mumbled to herself

"I'm gonna need all the comfort I can get." She promptly chugged more vodka, trying to take her mind off the needle.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of needles, Natasha."  
"Not afraid. I just recognize that they're not the nicest things ever created."  
Clint chuckled at her answer. He was about to sew her wound shut, when he realized she still had a bullet in her leg. He put the needle down, and picked up the tweezers, which he sterilized in the same manner as the needle. It didn't take him long to get the bullet out, but Natasha's hisses of pain made it seem like it was taking a lot longer.

He finally got the bullet out, and was worried by the amount of blood he saw on the counter. When he looked back at Natasha, he realized that she was very pale, and that worried him. He picked up the needle and sterilized in again, hoping that she'd stop bleeding once he's sewn it shut. The stitches didn't take long, and when he was done, he wrapped a piece of gauze around her leg, and pronounced her fixed. She smiled, and jumped off the counter. As soon as her legs hit the floor, her injured leg gave out from under her. Clint's hands caught her before she could hit the floor, and he helped her stand up.

"Right. Bullet wound."  
She tried to walk back to her bed, but found that her leg wasn't feeling very nice. Clint noticed too, and helped her to the bed. He sat her on the bed, and went to get her pajamas.

"Tash, you can't wear these." Clint said, holding up her sweatpants.

"Why?" She was whining like a little girl, and Clint had to struggle not to laugh at her face

"You shouldn't wear anything that can get stuck in the stitches and infect the wound. This has fuzz."  
"Fine."  
Clint put her pants down, and picked up a pair of his boxers for her. When she saw what he was holding she gave him a look.

"No."  
"Tasha, their clean, and they won't infect your leg."  
"I'm not wearing your underwear, Clint."

"Tasha, come on. You have to wear something to bed."  
"Fine. But I'm keeping my underwear on."  
"I appreciate that."

He helped her stand up, and let her use his shoulders to stabilize herself as she stepped into the boxers. He handed her the sweatshirt she'd been sleeping in, and she took it with a smug look.

She reached behind her to take her bra off, and slipped the sweatshirt on over her head.

She wrapped her arms firmly around Clint's waist, and pressed her head into his shoulder.

"Thank you for saving my life, Clint."  
"Anytime, Natasha. Just listen to me next time, ok?"

"Yeah." She let go of him, and suddenly felt a lot colder. She crawled under the sheets, hoping that they would be warmer. No such luck. Clint came to her, and tucked her in, before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

As he turned to walk back to the bathroom, he felt her hand wrap around his wrist. When he turned around, she had a pleading look in her eyes. Her request was so quiet, he almost didn't hear it.

"Stay. Please."  
Clint nodded, before turning to go back and change into his pajamas. Natasha's grip on his wrist tightened, and Clint turned back to face her.

"Tash, I have to change too. And I want to try to get some of the blood cleaned before it dries. But I'll be back, don't worry." He kissed her forehead again, before closing the bathroom door. He quickly changed into his boxers, and proceeded to clean the bathroom.

10 minutes later, he stepped out, expecting Natasha to be asleep.

"Good. I thought you were hiding from me."  
"Like I could ever pull that off." Clint chuckled.

He made his way to the side of her bed, and sat down next to her.

"Are you sure about this, Tash?"  
"Yes." Clint nodded, before climbing in behind her. He left a small distance between the two of them. She reached behind herself, and tugged at his arm, trying to get him to _come closer_. He obliged, and wrapped his arm around her waist. She sighed at the warmth, and snuggled against his chest. He kissed the back of her head, before falling asleep. Just as she was falling asleep, she finished her response to Clint's question

"I trust you, Clint." In her head, she added_ Please don't make me regret it._

The next day was spent getting ready for extraction. She was able to put some weight on her leg, so Clint didn't have to do much on his own.

"Tash, do you want to go to dinner before we leave?"

"Sure."  
She went to take a shower and get ready, and when she stepped out of the warm spray, she found a bundle on the counter, with a note on top

_Tash-_

_Why don't you wear this tonight?_

She smiled, and pulled on the black dress, having completely forgotten that she brought it.

When she emerged, she found Clint in a nice shirt and a pair of dark jeans.

They left the house, and loaded their things in the car, before making their way into town.

Natasha wasn't paying much attention to where they were going, until they passed a sign announcing that they were in Moscow. She stiffened

"Tash?"  
"I told you, I can't be in Moscow!"  
"Relax, Tash. I took care of everything."  
"What?"  
"I called Phil. He's got the whole place under watch. There will also be some SHIELD agents following us at a safe distance, who can help if we get in a tight spot. Trust me. Please."

She nodded, and as the night progressed she began enjoying herself. They ate dinner in a cozy restaurant, before wandering the square. They ended up in front of St. Basil's Cathedral, and Natasha looked at it in amazement.

Clint approached a woman passing by, and asked if she could take their picture in front of the building. She nodded, and snapped a picture of the two of them.

"Ok. You ready to go?"  
Natasha nodded, and they made their way to the extraction sight without any problems. Phil was waiting on the plane for them, and smiled in greeting.

As the plane took off, Natasha leaned against Clint's shoulder, and whispered in his ear

"Best Christmas ever."

**A/N: Well, that's the end of their Russian adventure. I really hope you liked it. **

**This chapter is a play on a line from Celine Dion's song ****_Christma_****s ****_Eve._**

**Reviews are nice. You should write one. :)**


	4. As Long as There's Christmas

**This one is going to be a bit longer too, because, again, my birthday story references things that happen in Budapest. Enjoy!**

**Year Three: As Long as There's Christmas**

Natasha Romanoff was cold. Scratch that. She was freezing her ass off.

"Hawkeye?" she spoke into her comms  
"Yes, Widow?"  
"What the hell did you do to piss Fury off enough to send us on missions to freezing cold places at Christmas _two years in a row?"_

Clint Barton chuckled, "Focus, Widow. The faster we do this, the faster we can get home."  
Natasha sighed, but continued her job. 15 minutes later, she was running out of the building, holding a package in her arms.

"Race you to the safe house?" She asked

Clint sighed, but agreed. They got to the safe house about the same time, and decided to call it a tie. For now.

They entered the tiny building, and checked in with Coulson to let him know that the first part of the mission was a success. Now they just had to sell the jewels, and they'd be good to go.

Natasha made her way over to the couch in front of the fire. She changed out of her suit, and slipped into her sweats. She was about to pull her sweatshirt over her head, when she felt fingers on her shoulder

"That's a pretty nasty color. Are you sure you shouldn't get it checked out?"  
Natasha sighed, "Yes, Clint, I'm sure. That's what happens when the floor in the bathroom is wet, and you slip and hit the side of the tub."  
Clint chuckled softly, trying not to picture Natasha getting out of the tub.

"Just make sure you cover it up for the ball."  
Natasha sighed. She and Clint had to go under cover as a married couple and try to sell the emeralds that they'd stolen. Natasha would be wearing them, and the mark was supposed to try to buy them from her.

Her mind started going through plans for the rest of the mission, when she felt something on the back of her neck.

A very wet and very warm something.

A something that felt a hell of a lot like a mouth.

Like Clint Barton's mouth.

"What are you doing, Clint?"  
"Kissing it better."  
"Well, stop. And don't worry about it. I'll be able to cover it up for the ball."  
Clint smiled, and pulled away from her. She frowned slightly at the loss of his warmth, but adjusted her features so that it wasn't showing.

Clint had gone to the kitchen to start making dinner. She wandered over to him, and perched on the counter as he started cooking.

Halfway through, he scooped up something, and held the spoon out for her to taste. She obliged, and was met by the heavenly taste of Clint's turkey soup.

"It's wonderful." She said, and a small smile crossed her lips.

He nodded, grabbed two bowls and began dishing up their dinner.

They ate in relative silence, and when they were done, Natasha did the dishes, while Clint took a shower.

As she cleaned, she allowed the memory of Clint's lips on her shoulder to fill her mind, and she decided that she quite enjoyed how it felt. She also began to wonder what it would feel like for Clint to kiss her again. She decided that she'd like to find out.

The next two days, she spent her time trying to get Clint to kiss her. But just as she thought he was about to kiss her, he'd move his head away.

Finally, on Christmas Eve, she decided she'd had enough. She did the dishes quickly, and got back to the bedroom while Clint was still in the shower. She hurriedly put her pajamas on, and sat at the foot of the bed, facing the bathroom door. When she heard the water turn off, she stood up, and waited for Clint to come out. When he did, she walked right up to him, and pressed her lips firmly to his. He was shocked at first, but soon he was kissing her back.

_Good lord, was he kissing her back_.

His hands found their way into her hair, while her hands pulled his face closer to hers. She pressed her body against his, and that's when she realized it

_Clint Barton wasn't wearing any clothes._

None. Not even a pair of boxers.

She decided that she needed more of him, but just as she was about to jump on him, he pulled away. They were both breathing heavily, and staring at each other's faces. Clint felt a smile tug at his lips, and Natasha's answering smile was just as beautiful.

"Tash. Are you kissing me?"  
"I believe that you were kissing me back."  
"Tash. Did you _start_ that kiss?"  
Natasha nodded, still smiling. Clint tried to pull back, but Natasha kept a firm hold on his neck.

"Don't you think we need to talk about this, Tasha?"  
"No. I think we need to talk about nothing. Except perhaps, why you're not wearing any clothes. Why I _am_ wearing clothes. Why you want to talk right now. And most importantly, why you're not throwing me on that bed," Here Natasha removed one of her hands from his neck, and pointed to the bed, "and ravishing me like there's no tomorrow."  
"Tasha, I-"

"Just shut up and kiss me, Barton."

Clint's eyes lit up, before his lips crashed down on Natasha's. She took the opportunity when it presented itself, and jumped on him, securing her legs behind his hips.

She smiled into the kiss as Clint started making his way to the bed. He untangled her legs, and threw her lightly on the bed, before removing her clothes. He crawled on top of her, and began kissing her again.

He then proceeded to ravish her like there was no tomorrow, per her instructions.

Later, they laid together, limbs entwined, breathing heavily.

"That was…" Natasha began.  
"Yeah."

"And you were…"  
"Thanks, you too."

They stopped talking; the only sound in the room was their breathing.

"You are, by far, the sexiest woman I've ever seen."  
"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself, mister."

They rearranged themselves, so that she was lying with her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His breaths were tickling her head, and she smiled at the feeling.

"So, how long have you wanted to do that, Tasha?"  
"Consciously? About three or four days. Unconsciously? About 2 ½ years. You?"  
"Consciously? About three years."  
"So, basically, you saved me because you wanted to sleep with me?"  
Clint laughed with her "No, I wanted to sleep with you immediately after I got you out of that dark alley. That's when I was actually able to see you clearly."  
"How romantic, Mr. Barton."  
Clint laughed, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She shifted so that she was lying on top of him, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"Just so you know, Barton, that was your Christmas present."  
"What was?"  
"Everything we just did."  
"Rounds 1-4?"  
"Yep."

"I suppose that will suffice."

She smiled, before pressing a sleepy kiss to his lips, and rolling off of him again. He pulled her into his body, where she quickly fell asleep.

When they woke up, it was 2:30 p.m. on Christmas day. Natasha kissed him, before making her way to the bathroom. Clint walked to the kitchen, after leaving something on her pillow.

Just like she had in Russia, Natasha emerged from the bathroom to find something sitting on her pillow. She pulled the note off, and read it

_Nat-_

_Unlike you, I actually have a real present to give you. Kidding! Anyways, I picked this up for you on our first night here, and I thought you'd enjoy it. You can add it to the collection that no one knows you have._

_-Clint_

She opened the box, and found a snow globe from Budapest. She smiled to herself. Clint was right, of course. She had a collection, at one of her safe houses. But if he knew what was good for him, he'd never tell a soul. And just for his jibe about real resents, she wasn't giving him his today.

She walked out to the kitchen to find him eating eggs and toast. She sat next to him, and picked up a piece of his toast, and began eating it. She ignored the look he gave her, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"So now that you slept with me, you're going to eat my food?"  
She didn't say anything, just simply nodded. He smiled as he pulled her onto his lap, and began kissing down her throat. She dropped the toast as she leaned into his mouth. He slid his arms underneath her, and stood up, before making his way to the bedroom, where they continued their activities from the night before.

Eventually, Natasha got out of the bed, and began getting ready for the Christmas ball where she'd be trying to sell the jewels to the mark to get him arrested. She was just stepping into the water when the door opened, and Clint came in, stripping his clothes as he went.

"What are you doing?"  
"We both need to shower. And this will save water."  
She rolled her eyes, but didn't stop him from getting in the shower with her.

30 minutes later- and no water saved- she shoved him out the door, saying that she needed to get ready. She dried her self off quickly, before blow-drying her hair. She straightened it, and paused momentarily to admire how long it had gotten. She put it into a fancy updo, and curled some of the pieces surrounding her face. When her hair was done, she moved on to her make up. She didn't need much, just eye shadow and lipstick. When she was done, she walked out of the bathroom, and went to the closet where her dress was. She pulled it out of the bag, and stepped into it. She was just about to start zipping it when she heard Clint enter the room. She turned her back to him, motioning for him to zip her up.

Clint walked over to her, and pulled the zipper up. When he was done, he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, causing her to gasp. He stepped away, and came back with the necklace she was going to wear, It was silver, with emeralds and diamonds. The emeralds matched her eyes exactly, which Clint noticed when she turned around to put the matching earrings in.

"You look gorgeous, Nat."  
She smiled shyly in response, "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself."

She put her shoes on, and Clint escorted her to the car. It didn't take long to arrive at the ball, and when they stepped out, Clint handed a camera to someone, and asked them to take a picture. Once they were done, they made their way inside.

The ball was going well, and the mark was there. 2 hours in, he came up to Natasha, and pulled her aside. Just as planned, he asked if her jewels were for sale.

Natasha went through the entire script she and Clint had set up, and soon, she was leaving with the mark. Clint was waiting across the street in the shadows, bow and arrow ready, just in case.

Suddenly, a group of men surrounded Natasha, and they had pulled guns on her. He raised his bow to shoot, when he felt a sudden pain coursing through his body. He fell to the ground, unable to move his body. Someone had made the distraction, so they could sneak up on him. He was trying to focus on Natasha, who was currently taking out the thugs with guns, when he felt a sudden pain rip through his side. He moved his hand to his side, and felt blood pouring out of the wound. He heard footsteps as his attacker retreated, and that was when Clint realized that his attacker hadn't made a sound. He tried to keep his eyes open, as he saw Natasha running towards him, but he couldn't keep them open much longer.

Natasha ran to Clint's side, as soon as the thugs were all dead. She crouched down next to him, and placed her hand on his side, where she felt blood gushing out. She heard someone sneaking up on them, and turned around, gun raised.

The man chuckled as he stepped into view.

She knew that face, knew it from her time in the Red Room. She stared at him a moment longer, before he spoke

"You might want to call for help, Natalia. I think your boyfriend is dying."  
As soon as he had finished the sentence, she put a bullet in his head. He fell to the ground, dead.

Her teacher, mentor, handler, what have you, lay dead at her feet. The one person she thought she could trust when she was in the Red Room, had betrayed her, tried to kill her. And would probably succeed in killing Clint.

She reached into her purse, and pulled out the phone that was thankfully still there.

"Coulson."  
"Coulson, it's Romanoff."  
"What can I do for you?"  
"You can get me a medical team. Clint's been stabbed, and he's gushing blood."  
"Shit! Ok, I'm sending one right now. ETA, 10 minutes. Does he have that long?"  
"I have no idea. Lets hope so."

She set the phone on the ground, and put it on speaker phone.

She moved her hands to her dress, and ripped part of it off the bottom, before pressing it into Clint's wound.

"Is he conscious?"  
"Not right now."  
"You need to get him conscious."  
"I'm a little busy, Coulson!"

That shut Coulson up momentarily, while Natasha pressed the fabric into the wound trying to get the blood to stop _gushing_.

She lifted one of her hands, and lightly slapped Clint's face, causing him to stir.

"Tash?"  
"Hey there, handsome. I kinda need you to stay awake, ok?"  
"I'll try."  
She nodded at him, and smiled.

"Just think about happy things, it'll take your mind off the pain."  
"Like what?"  
"Well, I dunno, Dummy. I kinda thought last night was happy."  
Clint's eyes lit up at the mention of the previous nights' activities.

"Yeah, that was happy. And fun, by the way."  
Natasha chuckled, "well, thank you. I guess it was kind of fun."  
Suddenly, Natasha heard Coulson's voice on the end of the line

"What did you two do last night?"  
Clint and Natasha looked at each other.

"Nothing!" They replied at the same time, albeit Clint, with quite less volume.

They knew Coulson wouldn't buy it, but they weren't telling him that they'd slept together over a phone call.

Clint laughed at their response, gasping slightly at the pain.

"Hold on, Clint, they'll be here soon."  
"'M trying, Nat."

His eyes drooped closed, and Natasha was yelling at him to open his eyes, as she finally heard the sounds of the aircraft coming to rescue them.

She just hoped they weren't too late.

**Suspense! Don't kill me; it'll be updated soon. I'm hoping to eventually get back to writing this like the first chapter was done, but since this is a companion piece, the birthday one mentions some things that happen on this mission, and I want all the pieces to fit together.**

**The song is from ****_Beauty and the Beast: Enchanted Christmas_****, which just happens to be my favorite holiday ****_and_**** my favorite Disney princess combined. **

**Reviews make me happy. You should write one. :)**


	5. The Greatest of the Gifts We'll Receive

**Year Three (Part 2): The Greatest of the Gifts We'll Receive**

Natasha Romanoff was pacing. It was the only thing she could do to keep herself from falling apart.

Clint had been alive, albeit barely, when the team arrived, and they had practically had to yank him out of her arms. The ride to HQ was tense, and Clint's heart gave out a couple times. As Natasha sat there watching the team try to save her partner and… whatever the hell else Clint was, she found herself praying to a deity she didn't believe in anymore, on the off chance that it worked.

Once they'd arrived at HQ, Clint had been wheeled off to surgery, and Natasha had gone to her debrief. 3 hours later, she was pacing in the waiting area, and Clint was still in surgery.

"Romanoff, pacing isn't gonna make it go any faster. Sit down."  
"No."  
"Romanoff."  
"I said no, Coulson." She stepped closer to him, and spoke softly so no one else would hear, "if I stop pacing, my brain starts thinking, and when my brain starts thinking, I start breaking, and I-I-I…" She gave a frustrated sigh, and started pacing again.

Coulson grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her to a secluded corner,

"Coulson. I could kill you _so many_ different ways. You know that right?"  
"One question, Romanoff."  
"Fine."  
"Did you and Barton sleep together."

Natasha stopped moving. Damn. The man really was a psychic. She just stared at her handler, to stunned to move.

"Well, that answers my question."  
"I didn't answer, Coulson."  
"You didn't need to."

Natasha sighed, and returned to her pacing. An hour later, a doctor finally came out and said Clint was out of surgery, but they couldn't go see him.

Natasha snapped when she heard this, and had to work not to kill the doctor. While she continued fuming and pacing, Phil was talking quietly with the doctor, and it was finally determined that Natasha was allowed to go into the room.

She thanked Phil and, grudgingly, the doctor, and made her way to Clint's room. The sight awaiting her absolutely broke her heart.

He had an oxygen line going into his nose, countless needles in his arms, and numerous machines monitoring his progress.

But the scariest thing about the sight was the tube coming out of his mouth, connected to a machine that was breathing for him.

"One of his lungs collapsed. We aren't sure how, but it's too risky to go in and fix it now, so we have that helping him breath until he stabilizes."  
Natasha nodded, and after taking a quick look at the monitors, the doctor exited the room.

Natasha made her way to the chair by the bed, fighting the urge to cry. She sat down, and grabbed his hand in her own.

"Clint, I need you to wake up, ok? When this is done, and your lung is fixed, I'm going to need you to wake up."  
She wasn't expecting a response, but the silence- save for the breathing machine- that answered her finally broke her.

Natasha Romanoff burst in to tears.

She didn't know how to care this much. She'd never had a partner, and definitely never came close to losing a partner. She had always been taught not to care, and she'd been good at it.

But then Clint Barton happened.

He'd wormed his way into her heart, and forced her to care about him, because he cared about her.

He knew everything about her. He knew how she liked her coffee-black, with a little honey- he knew how to calm her down when she woke up screaming. He knew everything about her, or at least everything she'd tell him.

As she looked at him, she realized that she didn't know what she'd do if he didn't make it.

She heard a knock on the door, and when she looked up, she saw Phil standing in the door of the room, clearly having a hard time seeing Barton in the state he was in.

Phil made his way slowly to the crying assassin, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Phil. I don't think I could handle losing him."  
Phil's only response was to squeeze her shoulder gently, and when she raised her eyes to meet his, she saw that he was doing his best to fight the tears.

"I've never seen him so broken. He's not supposed to look this small."  
Phil was right, Clint looked tiny. He was still muscular, but all the tubes and wires and machines made him look like a small child.

Phil squeezed her shoulder, before turning to make his way out of the room, when Natasha's voice stopped him

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you." She threatened.

Phil looked back at her, smiled sadly, and whispered, "I know."  
Just as he was walking out the door, he heard her voice again, and paused to listen, thinking she was talking to him, but quickly realizing she wasn't

"Come on. Clint, please. Just, please Clint, just wake up." She was sobbing by this point, so Phil closed the door, and walked away.

Natasha stayed by Clint's side for a week. Phil brought her food and fresh clothes, and he'd squeeze her shoulder or lightly pat her back when she started crying.

She would have been embarrassed that Phil was seeing her like this, but she knew that Phil would never let on that the Black Widow had emotions. And she knew that he was feeling the same way.

One day, Natasha remembered that there was something in her room that she wanted, but she didn't want to leave Clint to get it, worried that he'd slip away if she did, so she sent Phil.

He came back, holding a wrapped box, and a pad of paper and a pen. Natasha took them from him, and waited for him to leave before she began to write.

She quickly realized that she didn't know _what_ to write. What do you say to someone you've known for three years, and had just suddenly realized you loved?

She sighed and put the pen down, deciding to work on it later.

Later came when the doctors finally decided that Clint was strong enough to have his lung fixed, and the rest of the minimal injuries attended to. Natasha was told to stay in the reception area, and for once, she didn't argue. Instead, she took the paper and pen, and finally figured out what she wanted to write.

Clint emerged from surgery a few hours later, and the doctors told her and Phil that he was expected to make a full recovery.  
She made her way to his room, and sat in her place by his bed. As she waited for him to wake up, she felt her eyelids droop, as she succumbed to sleep.

When Clint woke up, he was sore as hell. He looked around and determined that he was in medical at SHIELD HQ. His side hurt, and his lungs were screaming in protest at each breath. He looked down, and saw red hair on his arm. Further inspection told him that his partner was sitting next to him, and she was asleep.

He opened his mouth to speak, but realized that his throat was aching, and he wouldn't be able to talk. It felt as if someone had shoved something down his throat. _What the hell happened?_

He moved his left arm slightly, and Natasha jolted awake. She looked at him, as a grin spread across her face, but Clint noticed that it didn't reach her eyes. She stood up, and made her way to the water pitcher that sat next to him, and handed him a glass of water. As he drank, he felt the soreness in his throat reduce slightly, and decided to try speaking.

"Hey."  
"Really, Clint? You're out for a week, and that's what you come up with?"  
"A week? Really?"  
Natasha nodded in response.

"So, what the hell happened?"  
"You got yourself stabbed, and managed to collapse one of your lungs. I tried to make the bleeding stop, but you lost a lot of blood, and they couldn't fix your lung until you were more stable."  
Clint nodded as she told him this, and he saw a haunted look in her eyes

"Nat-"  
"Don't start Clint. You could have died. I was almost going to start looking for new partners!" she cut him off. He could see clearly in her eyes what she hadn't said

_I could have lost you_.

He reached his hand out to hers, and just as their fingers were about to touch, the door opened, and the doctor came in. Natasha stepped out, promising to return later.

The doctor did a quick check up on Clint, to make sure that his stitches were healing properly, before leaving again. Clint waited for Natasha to return, but the minutes passed, and she didn't come back in. He sighed, and laid his head on the pillow. Just as he turned his head to look at the door so he could see when she came back, he saw the package on the tray.

He reached over and picked it up, along with the note that was placed on top. He removed the note, and began reading, a smile working its way across his face as he realized whom it was from.

_Clint-_

_I'm writing this as you're being wheeled in for surgery to fix your lung. I honestly don't know if you'll make it out, and if you do, you might not wake up. But I'll leave this by your bed until you're able to open it, which will hopefully be soon._

_One more thing. What I said, on Christmas in Budapest, I was lying. I had gotten you a real present, and this is it. After what happened, I figured I'd tease you a little, because I always planned to give it to you when we returned. It just never occurred to me that something like this would have, or could have, happened. So this is your real Christmas present, enjoy._

_-Nat_

_P.S. What you did was horrible. You can't make a girl realize she's been in love with you, and then nearly die on her. It's not acceptable. In case that was too subtle for your drug-altered brain to process, I'll put it simply:_

_I love you, Clint Barton. _

_And if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I swear I'll kill you._

Clint read the note, and then re-read it, and re-read it again. He would have laughed at the last line, if it weren't for the line right before it.

_Natasha Romanoff loves him._

He was still trying to wrap his brain around that small (or large, depending on perspective) fact, when he remembered that the note came with a present.

He picked the box up, and opened it carefully. Inside, he found two chains, each with a gold band on them. Underneath, was another note:

_What do you say, Barton? Next Christmas, lets do something fun._

Clint stared at the chains, and the rings on them. Hold the fuck up,

_Was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, Ice Queen extraordinaire, asking him to marry her?_

He didn't know how long he stared at the chains, but eventually, he heard a voice at his door.

"So, what do you say, Barton?"  
He looked up, and found Natasha looking at him. She was leaning her side against the doorframe, and her head was tilted slightly, as she pondered his expression.

And Clint thought he'd never seen anyone as beautiful as she was.

She slowly made her way into the room, and came to sit on his bed. When she spoke, it was a whisper

"I know it's crazy. We've only ever had one night together. Well, a night and a day, but still. It's crazy, but so are we. Your favorite weapon hasn't been used in centuries, and I have two friends, and I only trust one and a half of them."  
He chuckled slightly at her comment, but he understood what she was saying.

_She trusted him. _Trust meant more to her than love. It meant more than anything else. The fact that she trusted him completely, that she was willing to repeatedly put her life in his hands, told him more than any actual words could.

Before he could say something, she continued speaking, and he let her, knowing she had to get it out.

"I can't promise to love you. At least not as much as you love me. I realize that that isn't the smartest thing to say, but it's true, and I don't like to lie if I don't have to. But what I can promise is to never stop trusting you. There's no one else in the world I trust as much as I trust you, and there never will be. I can't promise to never get mad, but I can promise to get over it, no matter how long it takes. I can't say I'll always listen to you, but I can say that when we're in the field, I'll do my best."

She paused, and looked at him. He smiled at her, encouraging her to continue, and she did.

"I can't promise endless love, I don't think I'll ever be able to love you the same way that you might deserve to be loved. But I can promise that you'll never find a person who trusts you more than I do, and there'll never be another person I'd rather trust."  
She finally finished her speech, and looked at him.

Their eyes met, and she could see so much love, trust, care, hope, and even a little lust, shining in his eyes, and she imagined her eyes looked the same, but with more trust and less love.

As the silence drew out, and Natasha found herself wondering if he'd ever answer, he finally did.

"I don't care if you don't think you love me enough, because you do. It may not come across as love in the typical sense, but you're not typical. You show your love through trust. You trust me enough to sleep in the same room, let alone the same bed, just as I trust you. You trust me with your life, and though I may almost fail, I'll always find a way to get you back, just as you could do for me. Just knowing that you trust me is more than enough. But knowing that you also want to come home to _me, _that you want to spend your days off with _me_, is more than I could have ever asked for."  
She smiled at him, and felt tears flow softly down her face. He reached his hand up, and brushed them away, before cupping her cheek in his palm, and she couldn't resist pressing her face into his hand.

"Is that a yes, Clint?"  
"It's a hell yes, Nat."

They both smiled, as their faces leaned into each other. Their lips met for a soft kiss. It wasn't as rough as their kisses in Budapest had been, but it said more than those ones ever could.

When they broke apart, he placed one of the chains around her neck, and the other around his. They wouldn't wear the rings, they'd keep them locked away somewhere safe, but for now, they left the chains dangle the rings over their hearts. They'd have to tell someone, Phil at least, but that could wait. They knew that he'd be happy for them, knew that he had pegged it to happen earlier. And they knew they could trust him not to tell anyone else, at least not until they were ready.

She kissed his lips lightly again, before making him scoot over so she could lay next to him. She curled up against his side, and rested her head on his chest. His arms wrapped around her waist, and pulled her closer to him. He kissed the top of her head, before they both fell asleep.

_As long as there's Christmas,  
I truly believe,  
That love is the greatest,  
Of the gifts we'll receive._

**Yay, the suspense is over! For now. Yes I realize that basically all of the Natasha bits are extremely fluffy, but I like to think she has a soft spot for Clint. Stay tuned to see what happens next Christmas!**

**The title is a line from the chorus of As Long as There's Christmas, from****_ Beauty and the Beast_****, my favorite Christmas movie.**

**Reviews are wonderful. You should write one. :)**


	6. Carol of the Bells

**Year Four: Carol of the Bells**

They touched down on the outskirts of Sarajevo. As soon as their boots were on the ground, they started running. They ran through the Bosnian wilderness, boots crunching on the snow. They only had a few more moments before they were discovered, and they needed to get out of range of the enemies detection devices. Clint looked behind him to where his partner was, and caught sight of her, only about two yards behind him. He slowed his pace to allow her to catch up to him. She was on him in seconds, and shoved him forward

"Move, Legolas. Gotta get out of here."  
"Я тоже тебя люблю, хунны."  
"Jackass, _not here_."  
Right. There were Serbians in the enemy army, and there language was too close to Russian.

He shot her an apologetic look, and caught a glimpse of a smile on her face and in her eyes, before she shoved him again, and he kept running.

They finally made the perimeter a few moments later, and were able to stop running. They continued through the forest to the safe house, hoping to make it by nightfall.

A few hours later, they saw the small building in front of them, and they both let out a small sigh. Clint allowed his hand to reach out and grab Natasha's hand, and she let him hold her hand until they reached the house.

When they entered, both of their bodies relaxed visibly, but they were both still very alert, listening for any sounds that would indicate that they'd been found.

They stripped off their jackets, and Clint made his way to the fireplace to allow some warmth to enter the frigid cabin. Natasha came to sit next to him, and the two of them stared into the fire for a while, allowing some warmth back into their bodies.

Natasha stood up and grabbed their bags before making her way to the tiny bedroom. She returned a few moments later, having changed into sweatpants and one of Clint's sweatshirts, and she was carrying a blanket. She laid it down in front of the fire, before going to sit on Clint's lap. She rested her head in the crook between his collarbone and neck, and smiled as she breathed in his scent, while he traced patterns on her back.

"I guess we have to put off our plans."  
Natasha pulled back to look at him, confusion clear in her bright green eyes.

"Your note last year? 'Lets do something fun for Christmas.'?"  
Natasha continued to look at him, but she nodded her head to show she knew what he was talking about.

"Well, we can't get married, we're here."  
"Clint, all you need to get married is a church."  
"And rings."  
Natasha chewed her bottom lip, a habit she'd picked up for when she was nervous.

"Tasha?"  
She just looked at him. It was clear that she wanted to say something to him, but she didn't know where to begin.

"Are you backing out?"  
"No! I still want to marry you, it's just…"  
"Just what, Tash?"  
"I don't think the rings are a good idea."  
"Tasha, _you _gave them to me."  
"I know! But, well…"  
"Tasha."  
"I thought about it, and it's not smart. It shows that we have a weakness. And we already agreed that there would be no paper trail."  
"I know that, Tash. But I want something that proves that we're married."  
"Why?" her voice was almost a whine, but she didn't care.

"Because, I'm a man."  
She just looked at him, not seeing what that had to do with anything.

"I'm distantly related to the cavemen of old. My ancestors were known to be possessive, and that trait was passed on to me. Grunt."  
Natasha had been keeping a blank face during Clint's reply, but when he said grunt, she lost it, and started laughing. His arm tightened around her waist, as he pulled her into his chest.

"Fine, you can have something that will show we're married, but it won't be the rings. We'll use them when we actually get married, and we'll wear them when we're alone, but they're not leaving our home."

"That won't work for me."  
"Then decide what else would work, because I'm not wearing the ring in public. I'll that we're married and that'll be enough for me."  
Clint looked at her, before quickly grabbing her left hand. He spread her fingers, and looked at her ring finger carefully. He seemed to like what he saw, because he looked up at her and smiled.

"Does Mr. Caveman have another idea?"  
He nodded, but refused to speak.

"Well, Mr. Caveman better speak up, or he's going without sex for at least a week."  
Clint's eyes widened in horror, and he finally opened his mouth to tell her his idea.

"Tattoos."  
"Tattoos?"  
"Yeah. We'll each get one, right here."  
He pressed his finer to the inside of her ring finger.

She looked down, and decided that that might be a viable option.

"What will the tattoos be?"  
"Yours will be a arrow, and mine will be a spider."  
He sounded very proud of himself, and Natasha had to admit that the idea sounded good to her too.

"Ok. We'll do it after the mission."  
"Ok. But we're not doing tattoos until we're back in the states. We'll use the rings to actually get married, and we'll wear them that night, but once we're ready for extraction, they'll get put away, ok?"  
She nodded, before snuggling into his chest again. They sat on the couch together, not saying much, until Natasha fell asleep. Clint picked her up and carried her to the bed, before returning to the fireplace to put the screen up so the cabin wouldn't burn down, but would still be warm. He grabbed the blanket Natasha had brought out earlier, and made his way back to the bedroom.

He laid the blanket over the coves, allowing the warmth to seep through. He changed into his pajamas, and crawled in behind her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, as she shifted and rest her head on his chest. He fell asleep, thinking of all the promises that awaited them after the mission was over.

"Widow, get out of there now! I'm blowing the building."

"Copy that, Hawkeye."  
He saw his partner running out of the building, and once he saw that she was clear, he notched an exploding arrow, and breathed in, he exhaled as he said "Boom", and let the arrow fly. It hit the C4 Natasha had planted just inside the door, and the whole building went up in flames.

He collapsed his bow before getting off the rooftop, and ran back to the safe house, listening to the bells from a nearby church the whole way there. Just as he was approaching the house, he saw Natasha coming up on his left, and smiled as he saw that she'd made it out of the danger zone.

He kissed her cheek as they entered the house. They went to collect their bags, before locking the house. They were traveling to Greece, and they had to get to the airport.

SHIELD had known that they were going to anger a lot of people, and they didn't want to risk their agents staying in a hostile country awaiting extraction.

Clint was driving while Natasha was looking out the windows. It was a very pretty country, when they weren't blowing it up. They passed through a small city, when Natasha saw it.

"Clint, right there."  
"Where?"  
"Look, its right there."  
"Oh."  
"It's perfect, lets go see if they'll help us."  
Clint nodded, and pulled up in front of the little church.

They walked in together, pleased to see that the only person in the chapel was a priest. They approached him, and Natasha asked, in fluent Bosnian, if he was able to marry them.

The man nodded, and smiled broadly. They stood together at the altar, choosing not to say their vows in front of the man, wanting to do them in private instead.

After they exchanged the rings they kept around their necks, they kissed, before making their way out of the church. The thanked the priest multiple times, before they got back in the car

They called Coulson to let him know their progress, and informed him that they were on their way to the airport

"It's done."  
"What is?"  
"The mission, Coulson."  
"What part of it?"  
Natasha looked up at her new husband, confusion on her face. Coulson wasn't making sense.

Clint motioned for the phone, and Natasha handed it over

"Coulson?"  
Natasha couldn't make out what Phil was saying, but she found she didn't care. She was looking out the window when she heard Clint laugh

"Thanks, buddy. We'll be ready for extraction when we touch down in Greece."  
He hung up, and answered the question in Natasha's eyes

"He managed to find out about us getting married- don't worry, he won't tell anyone, not even Fury- and said he was bumping us up to first class for the flight to Greece."  
She smiled, and went back to looking out the window.

They arrived shortly after, and were soon sitting on the plane, waiting for take off. Natasha was practically bouncing in her seat from the nerves, scanning the faces of everyone coming on the plane, hoping that no one knew who they were.

Clint noticed, and chuckled softly. He lifted the armrest between their seats, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body. He leaned down and whispered in her ear

"It's fine, Tash. Relax, no one knows what happened. We'll be fine."

She looked at him, and he saw the nerves disappear from her eyes as she nodded at him and smiled. She rested her head on his shoulder, content to let him hold her. As soon as the plane took off, she fell asleep. The seats were comfortable, and she felt safe in Clint's arms.

"Tasha, come on, baby. We're here."  
Natasha opened her eyes, and glared at Clint

"Do _not_ call me that."  
He smiled, and helped her to her feet. They grabbed their bags, and waited to get off the plane. Once they got outside, they got a taxi to the hotel Coulson would be waiting for them at. 20 minutes later, they were on a quinjet back to the hellicarrier.

Phil smiled at them, and aside from the congratulations he'd given them, he didn't acknowledge the rings on their fingers in the slightest.

Once on the jet, Natasha leaned her head against Clint's shoulder again, and fell asleep. She woke up five minutes before they landed. She still leaned into Clint, allowing his hands to run through her hair. Just as she was standing up to get ready to leave, Phil pointed to the rings they still had on, and the two hurriedly took them off and put them back on the chains around their necks, making sure that no marks were visible.

They nodded before Clint and Natasha made their way off the plane towards their debriefing.

Two days later, they were granted leave- due in large part to Phil, no doubt- and they made their way to their city apartment. They told Phil about their idea, and he had found a very reputable tattoo parlor for them, so they wouldn't have to worry about anything getting infected.

Clint went first, and he barely acknowledged the pain, but he held Natasha's hand nonetheless.

When it was her turn, she looked uncertainly at Clint

"Don't worry, Nat, it doesn't hurt nearly as much as getting shot."  
The tattoo artist looked shocked at that, but did his best not to let it show. Natasha acquiesced; getting shot wasn't that bad, so this shouldn't be too horrible.

She held out her left hand, and gripped Clint's hand firmly in her right hand, just in case.

"I'll get you vodka after this, ok?"  
She smiled at him, knowing he meant good, Russian vodka, not the crappy American knockoffs.

"Do I have to share it with you?"  
"Like that would ever happen. No, I'll get you a bottle, and I'll get my self a bottle."  
"One bottle won't do much, Clint."  
He chuckled, "I'm not trying to get you drunk. Это мой свадебный подарок для вас."  
Natasha smiled. Russian vodka would make a damn good wedding gift.

When the tattoo artist was done, they paid him and left, heading back to their apartment.

"He looked so scared when you mentioned getting shot."  
Clint laughed along with Natasha. He really loved saying things like that in front of 'normal' people, just to see their reactions.

They entered the apartment, ate dinner, and fell asleep.

When they returned to the hellicarrier, no one was able to see any difference, although they did show Phil the tattoos.

Natasha was getting ready for bed one night, when Clint came up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist before leaning in to whisper into her ear

"Goodnight, Mrs. Barton."  
She laughed slightly, before answering

"Goodnight, Mr. Romanoff."  
He laughed with her, before pressing a light kiss to her mouth. She crawled under the covers, making herself comfortable while Clint changed into his pajamas. When he finished, he got into the bed facing her, and gently kissed the top of her head, before taking her left hand. He spread her fingers, and gently pressed his lips to her tattoo. When he was done, she took his left hand and kissed his tattoo, before kissing the palm of his hand and his wrist. She rolled over to her other side, and tugged on his hand to get him to scoot closer to her, before he wrapped his arm around her waist. She snuggled into his chest, and he pressed another kiss to the back of her neck.

The deadly couple fell asleep with identical smiles on their faces, content to lie in each other's arms forever.

**So, this one doesn't have as much drama as the previous ones, and I hope that on the next chapters, I'll be able to go back to what the first chapter was like. But I hope you enjoyed this anyways.**

**The title is one of my favorite Christmas Carols.**

**Reviews are wonderful. You should write one. :)**


	7. Twas in the Moon of Wintertime

**Year 5: 'Twas in the Moon of Wintertime**

Bodies were falling, and buildings were exploding. She caught Clint's eye and gave him a small smile. Suddenly, the buildings around her started shaking, and she could vaguely hear Clint yelling her name

"Nat!"  
She tried to answer, but found that her voice wasn't working

"Tasha!"  
The shaking was getting worse, and the buildings were sure to collapse on her at any moment

"Natasha!"  
The buildings around her finally crumbled, and just as a wall was about to burry her, her eyes snapped open.

Startled, she looked around, and found herself in her room at Stark Tower. The shaking was still happening, and when her head turned towards the side, she saw why.  
Her (secret) husband was bouncing on the bed.

"Tashy! Wake up, it's Christmas!"  
"Я не выше убить тебя, даже если мы женаты."  
"Ooo, someone's touchy!"  
"Clint, what the hell are you doing?"  
"Tashy!" He sounded horrified "It's Christmas, and you need to wake up!"  
Natasha's eyes, which had been drooping closed again, snapped open, and she glared at the man currently sitting next to her.

"Do _not_ call me 'Tashy'. My name is Natasha, and on occasion Nat, Tash, or Tasha. But _never_ 'Tashy'. And anyone who wants their appendages to remain where they are, will remember that."  
Clint nodded, as he took his wife's hand, and pulled her from the bed and out of the room. They finally made it to the common area two floors down, and after forcing Natasha onto a couch, he went to get coffee from the kitchen.

Natasha looked around and saw that everyone else _was_ up. Pepper was laying with her head in an excited Tony's lap, Thor was holding his hammer close to his chest, and attempting not to fall asleep. Bruce was almost asleep in the big armchair he had claimed as his own, and Steve was sitting right next to the tree, more excited than both Clint and Tony, if it was even possible.

When Clint came back into the room, Natasha was grateful to see that he had calmed down somewhat. He handed her one of the mugs he was carrying, and sat next to her, allowing her to curl up against his side.

"Can we do presents now?"  
"Steve, calm down. We just got here."  
"I can't calm down, Natasha! I've missed 70 Christmases!"  
Everyone laughed, and Steve began handing out gifts. When he was done, everyone began opening their gifts. Steve was done quickly, and sat watching everyone else.

An hour later, all the gifts had been opened, and people were beginning to disperse to either play with their new gifts or, in Pepper's case, to make breakfast, when Tony realized something

"Hey! Hawkboy and Spidey didn't get each other anything!"  
Clint and Natasha stopped in their tracks. They'd been making their way up to Natasha's floor to exchange gifts, which they still preferred to do alone.

Clint knew that Natasha wasn't opening his gift if other people were watching, so he tried to get Tony off his back

"We're going to exchange them now, Tony."  
"Oh, well, we'll go with you!"  
"No, you won't. Clint and I have our traditions. We don't even watch _each other_ open the gifts."  
"What? Why not?"  
"Because, Stark, it's what we do."  
"Well, that's stupid! You watched us open all of our presents, so it's only fair that we get to watch you open all of yours!"  
"Stark." Natasha hissed, "Drop it."  
"No! I wanna watch you open each other's gifts!"

Clint decided to ignorer the whining billionaire, and instead grabbed Natasha's hand and pulled her to the elevator

"Ok, guys. Lets follow them!"  
"ANTHONY EDWARD STARK! STOP RIGHT NOW!"

Pepper's voice stopped Tony's steps long enough for Clint to get Natasha into the elevator.

Just as the door was closing, her heard Pepper telling Tony that he wasn't allowed to bother them about gifts again.

They finally arrived on Natasha's floor, and made their way to her bedroom. Clint gave her a kiss, before telling her to shower and open her gift, and he'd do the same. She nodded, and told him to meet her in the living room on her floor when he was done.

She stepped into the bathroom, and pulled her pajamas off, before stepping under the hot water.

10 minutes later, she emerged, and pulled on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved black shirt. She pulled a comb quickly through her hair, and went back to the bedroom, where she found Clint's gift waiting for her.

The day before, they'd each placed the gift in the other's room, so that they could open them by themselves.

She brought the parcel to the bed, where she sat down to read the note

_Nat-_

_First of all, I love you. I've loved you since the day after I saved your life, and I'll love you forever._

_I spent a lot of time thinking about what to get you, and I finally decided on this, and I sincerely hope it's enough. And if it's not, well, then, suck it up and deal with it._

_I love you, Tash._

_-Clint_

Natasha smiled at the note, hearing his voice in her head. She set the note down, and picked the package up, and opened it carefully.

She reached into the box, and pulled out yet another note

_Tash-_

_I don't expect you to wear this; it's mostly for sentimentality, which I know you hate._

Natasha picked up the chain that was attached to the note, which had several charms hanging off of it.

Taking a closer look, Natasha saw that each charm was the name of a place they'd been together.

The places were:  
Stalingrad- the place he decided not to kill her  
Kiev- their first mission as partners  
Bangladesh- where she told him she trusted him completely  
Sao Paulo- where he told her he loved her, before passing out after losing most of his hearing while he'd been protecting her  
Moscow- where he had Phil send in numerous agents, just so she could see a cathedral  
Budapest- where she almost lost him, after which she asked him to marry her  
Sarajevo- the relatively easy mission that ended with them being married  
New York- where she'd saved him, again, and they'd fought alongside the Avengers for the first time.

She smiled as tears rolled down her face while she remembered exactly what happened on each mission, and why he'd picked those places.

She stood up and made her way to the wall safe, where she tucked the necklace next tot the chain that held her wedding band.

Then she turned and walked down the hall to wait for her husband.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Clint stepped out of the shower, glad to have had hot water beating down on his muscles. He dressed quickly, before walking back into the guest bedroom he'd been using while Natasha was in hers. He grabbed her present from where she'd left it on the bedside table, and went to sit on the bed.

He pulled the note off the top, and laughed as he read it

_Clint-_

_I didn't really know what to get you, so I went with this. I've had a few of these for a while, and I figured this was a good idea for them. Enjoy._

_-Nat_

_P.S. I had Pepper help me with it._

Clint placed the note next to his body, and gently removed the wrapping from the gift. He was met with a book, and when he opened the cover, he saw the picture from their wedding in Sarajevo.

He smiled at the memories as he flipped through the book. Each place had a page- or two in some cases- and on each page was a postcard with the name of where they'd been.

All of the cities he'd put on her necklace were there, along with some others, like Killarney, Inverness, London, Paris, Barcelona, and a few others.

There were keepsakes from each place, and there were some pictures of the two of them, ones that Clint didn't remember having taken, probably due to the fact that in all of those pictures, his attention was focused sole on the gorgeous woman by his side.

When he was done going through the book, he closed it and laid it on the bed, before making his way to the living room.

As soon as he entered, Natasha threw herself at him, and kissed him deeply. He returned the kiss, just as enthusiastically, and when they finally pulled apart, they were both panting.

They didn't thank each other because they didn't need to; it wasn't part of their tradition.

"Clint, do we have to go back downstairs?"  
He chuckled in response, but shook his head

"I was actually thinking that we could do a mini reenactment of each of the places in the book and on the necklace."  
Natasha's eyes lit up, and she nodded

"Where should we start?"  
"Well, I seem to remember that Killarney had a few _very_ fun things that took place on the couch, and there's a couch right there." He pointed over Natasha's shoulder to the couch, and began walking her towards it.

"I was also thinking that tomorrow or the next day, we should tell everyone that we're married."  
Natasha nodded, "I had to tell Pepper, but she didn't tell the rest of the team."

They kissed again, and Clint fell on the couch so that Natasha was on top of him. They knew that Tony, and possibly the rest of the team, would be wondering where they were, and in some cases, what they were doing, but at that moment, honestly, neither Clint nor Natasha could be bothered to give a fuck.

**There you have it! Sorry it took me so long to update, I was out of town and didn't have computer access. :( But I'm back now, and should hopefully be able to update soon. **

**The title is another amazing Christmas song, it's like the oldest native American Christmas song. It was written/sung by the Native Canadians in the 1600s or something like that. I don't know the whole story, I just know that I sang it last year at Church, and I really like it.**

**Reviews are wonderful. You should write one. :)**


	8. I'm Your Angel

**Year 6: I'm Your Angel**

Natasha's eyes snapped open, and tried to get the images from her dreams out of her mind. When she succeeded, she rolled over to try to snuggle closer to Clint, but she found that the sheets were empty and cold.

Her dream flashed back to her as she began panicking

_I really killed him. Oh, God, I killed him._

She heard strange noises, and she finally figured out that the noises were her sobs. As soon as she recognized that she was crying, she gave over to the tears, sobbing for her husband that she had killed.

Suddenly, she felt arms wrap around her and she fought blindly, not wanting to move from her position. It was only when she heard the voice that she calmed down slightly

"Shh, Tasha, it's all right. I'm here, and we're both safe."

Natasha opened her eyes, and found a very distinct set of blue-gray eyes looking into her own.

"Clint?"  
He chuckled softly, "Yeah, Tasha, it's me."  
She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as she could. Clint shifted, and pulled her onto his lap. She curled up and burrowed her face into his chest, as he rubbed circles on her back.

"I thought I killed you." She whispered into his chest.

He kissed the top of her head, before whispering into her hair "You didn't, Tash. I'm still here."  
Natasha nodded, and the two of them sat in silence, until she asked the question she'd been thinking over

"What are you doing here?"  
"Do you want me to leave?"  
"NO! I mean, didn't Pepper force you to stay in another room tonight? Won't she be mad?"  
He chuckled, before pulling her head back slightly, so he could look at her face

"Nat, we've been married for a few years already."  
"I know. But today is us doing it legally."  
"Tasha, we wont get any extra amount of bad luck because I came in to hold you when you woke up and started sobbing."  
Natasha nodded, before pulling herself and Clint down to lie on the bed. She snuggled as close to him as physics would allow, burrowing her head into the crook of his shoulder, before falling asleep with Clint's hands drawing patterns on her back.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Natasha woke up with someone knocking on her door, and Clint gone from her bed. In his place, she found a note which she smiled as she read

_Nat-_

_You'll get your Christmas present in a few hours, so don't worry that I've forgotten. I love you, Natasha Romanoff._

_-Clint_

Natasha pulled herself to the door, still holding the note, and let Pepper into her room.

The girls spent the morning getting ready; Pepper did both girls' hair and makeup, and helped Natasha into her dress.

They'd convinced Tony and Pepper that they only wanted small wedding, and while they'd been reluctant at first, the situation had been helped when Tony asked Pepper to marry him. The dress had been a part of the simple wedding- it was just a white sundress, much more telling of Natasha's personality that a big poofy dress. Clint's outfit was simple as well- a silk shirt and dark jeans.

Pepper stood in front of Natasha, giving her friend a once over, before nodding

"Ok. Let's go get you married."  
Natasha smiled, and allowed Pepper to pull her from the room and down to the elevator, and to the top of Stark Tower.

Or what she'd thought had been the top of Stark Tower.

When she stepped off the elevator, she was surprised to see that it had been transformed, into a little bit of each place they'd had an important mission to. There were pictures of each place, and behind the altar was a replica of St. Basil's Cathedral.

Natasha looked around in wonder, when someone laid a hand on her shoulder. When she turned around, she saw Phil smiling at her, ready to walk her down the aisle.

It was a fitting decision, really. Next to Clint, Phil had gained the most of Natasha's trust, and he had saved her on more than one occasion, both physically and emotionally.

Natasha and Phil took their place behind Pepper and Tony- Maid of Honor and Best man respectively- and Tony cued the music.

Before she knew it, Natasha was walking down the aisle toward Clint, whose eyes were shining as he took all her beauty in. He decided that the simpleness suited her better than any amount of fanciness could have.

Phil gently placed her hand in Clint's, and kissed her cheek before going to sit in his seat. There weren't many people present, just the Avengers, and any significant others, plus Maria and Tony's friend Rhodey, who Natasha and Clint both liked well enough.

Fury was serving as the priest, which made Natasha and Clint chuckle internally.

Clint seemed to want to say something, so Natasha encouraged him to spit it out

"You look better when you're not covered in blood and dirt."  
Natasha laughed, along with the rest of the audience.

Fury started with the ceremony, and before long, Tony handed Clint the rings, and they slipped them on each other's fingers

"Merry Christmas, Tasha."  
"Merry Christmas, Clint."  
They didn't exchange vows' they didn't need to. They knew what this meant, to themselves and the other. And this was merely a formality. They'd done vows the first time through, in the car to the airport.

Fury finished up the ceremony, and turned to Clint

"Well, go on, kiss her."  
Everyone laughed again, and Clint followed his boss' orders.

He placed his hands gently on Natasha's waist, just as her went to his face. They pulled each other closer as their lips met. It was gentle, but it was passionate, and said everything they needed it to. As everyone began clapping, they pulled apart, and made their way off the roof and down to the training center, where the reception was taking place.

When the guests arrived, they congratulated the couple, who refused to be separated, and soon enough, the music started, and Clint pulled Natasha onto the floor. They were both excellent dancers, they had to be, but they opted for the more typical, mostly-stationary dance.

They were joined shortly by Pepper and Tony, Thor and Jane, and Steve and Maria, who had just begun dating. About halfway through the dance, Natasha leaned in and whispered into Clint's ear

"Best Christmas ever."  
He smiled as he pulled her in for another kiss.

When the song was done, Natasha danced with everyone. First with Phil, then Fury, Steve, Tony- albeit shortly- Thor and Bruce. She finally made her way back to dancing with Clint, who pulled her close as they resumed their dance from earlier.

She rested her head on Clint's shoulder, letting him guide her around.

The words of the song from their first dance came back to her:

_I'll be your cloud up in the sky_

_I'll be your shoulder when you cry_

_I'll hear your voices when you call me_

_I am your angel_

_And when all hope is gone, I'm here_

_No matter how far you are, I'm near_

_It makes no difference who you are_

_I am your angel_

_I'm your angel_

Clint Barton really was her angel.

**Yay! I know it's fluffy, but I don't really care, and who said that master assassins can't be fluffy?**

**The title is a song (I'm Your Angel) by Celine Dion. I know it may not strictly be a Christmas song, but it's on her Christmas cd. Which means that it could be.**

**Reviews are wonderful. You should wrote one. :)**


	9. Auld Lang Syne

**I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've been crazy busy, and I got a new idea for a story, so I had to write it if I even wanted a chance to be able to focus on anything else. **

**I have absolutely no idea when either of their birthdays are, so for the purposes of this story, Clint's is about 9 months before Christmas.**

* * *

Natasha's eyes snapped open as she felt something leak down the inside of her leg.

_Fuck. Well, that's just great._

She got out of the bed and made her way to the closet, before going into the bathroom and cleaning her legs. She reemerged 10 minutes later wearing a pair of Clint's sweatpants and one of his sweatshirts. Just as she was making her way to the bed to wake her husband, the first contraction hit. It was the shock more than the pain that caused Natasha to hiss.

When it passed, she went and sat on her husband's side of the bed and started the process of waking him up.

"Clint."  
Nothing.

"C'mon, Clint. Time to wake up."  
Still nothing.

_Fine. He asked for it._

"CLINTON FRANCIS BARTON! IF YOU DON'T WAKE UP RIGHT NOW, I'M HAVING THESE BABIES WITHOUT YOU!"  
Clint jerked awake. "Jesus, Tasha. What was that for? It's too early to be up on Christmas."  
Natasha shrugged as she threw clothes at him. "I just figured you'd want to be there when the twins are born."  
That made Clint wake up fully. He jumped out of bed and tugged the clothes on as quickly as he could.

When he was done, he grabbed Natasha's bag and followed her out of the building, calling to JARVIS to let the other occupants know what was going on.

Clint drove like a madman to the hospital, breaking just about every traffic law in existence.

When they entered the hospital, Clint started yelling for nurses.

"Клинт если вы не заткнуться, клянусь Богом, что чертовски Я чертовски убить вас. Тогда я буду реанимировать вас, чтобы вы могли смотреть ваши дети рождаются. и только после этого я буду убивать вас снова. Так. Заткнись.. Ебать. вверх." _'Clint if you don't shut the fuck up, I swear to fucking God that I will fucking kill you. Then I'll resuscitate you so you can watch your children being born. And only after that will I kill you again. So. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.'_

That seemed to calm Clint down, and they were escorted to a room, where Natasha was given a gown to change into.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Clint pulled her into his arms.

"Sorry, Tasha. I guess I was freaking out a little. Won't happen again."  
Natasha smiled at her husband as she kissed him. "It's ok, bird brain. I'm kind of freaking out too."  
Clint smiled and let her go. She made her way- _not _by waddling, regardless of what Tony would have you believe- to the bed, and sat down. Clint made to sit in the chair next to the bed, but Natasha shook her head and patted the space on the bed next to her. Clint smiled and sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

When the nurse came in to give Natasha fluids, she smiled at the couple and didn't so much as blink at their seating arrangement.

"You ready for this, Tash?"  
"Yeah. Are you, bird brain?"  
"Oh yeah."

* * *

"Well, it looks like you've progressed enough that you'll be able to push both babies out."  
"Oh, Joy." Natasha deadpanned.

Clint smiled and took her hand in his.

"Вы просто помните, что наша сексуальная жизнь будет разрушена из-за этого. И это полностью ваша вина!" _'You just remember that our sex life will be ruined because of this. And it's entirely your fault!'_

Clint smiled. "Whatever you say, Nat."  
She grimaced at him before she began pushing.

"Мой Бог, я чертовски тебя ненавижу!" _'My God, I fucking hate you!'_

Clint didn't respond, knowing that there wasn't a right answer.

The rest of the time Natasha spent pushing went in a similar fashion. Every time she finished pushing, she'd tell him that she hated him, she wanted to kill him, he was a horrible person, or anything to that extent.

Finally, a cry broke through the cussing.

"That's one daughter down, another to go."  
"Good job, Tash."  
"Oh, shut it, you."

Clint smiled, and continued holding her hand, until their other daughter's cries filled the room.

After both girls were cleaned, they were handed to their parents, and the family was left alone.

"They're gorgeous, Tasha."  
"They are, aren't they?"

They spent the next hour just staring at their twins, pausing only when hey got hungry. After Natasha fed them, they fell asleep, and their parents continued staring at them.

The door to their room opened, and their teammates walked in.

"Hi, guys." Pepper whispered.  
"Hi."  
"How are they?"  
"Perfect."

Everyone smiled at Natasha's response.

"What are their names?"  
"The oldest one," Clint said, gesturing to the baby he was holding, "is Aliya Ceara Barton."  
"Her sister is Alexis Éibhleann Barton."  
"Those are some interesting names you came up with." Tony pointed out.  
"Yeah. Their first names are Russian, their middle names are Irish." Natasha replied, too drained of energy to be snarky with Tony.

The girls were passed around, and when Aliya opened her eyes, Pepper squealed at how cute the red fuzz was when paired with Clint's blue-gray eyes.

"Well, I guess they have my hair and Clint's eyes."  
"But, Alexis hasn't opened her eyes yet, they could be different."  
"Except that they're identical, Stark, so they'll be the same."  
"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that part."  
Everyone laughed as Tony bushed and turned his focus back to the baby in his arms.

The team stayed in the room until visiting hours were over. As they were leaving, Natasha realized something.

"Guys!"  
"What?"  
"It's Christmas!"  
"So?"  
"We didn't get to do presents!"  
"Don't worry about it, Natasha. We'll open them when you get home."  
"Are you guys sure?"  
"Yes. Now, get some sleep. You'll need it."  
Natasha smiled as Pepper followed the men out of the room.

Two nurses entered moments later, taking the babies to the nursery, where they'd be saying for the night.

When they were finally alone, Clint reclaimed his seat next to Natasha on the bed. She leaned her head on his chest as he pulled the blankets up around them.

"I love you, Tasha."  
"I love you, too, Clint."  
"Just so you know, this is your Christmas present." Natasha said after a slight pause.  
"Is that so?"  
Natasha nodded. "Well, then. Best Christmas present _ever_."

Natasha smiled as she closed her eyes and allowed her husband's breathing to lull her to sleep. Clint kissed the top of her head, and followed her into unconsciousness.

* * *

**There you have it, the mini assassins have been born! I hope this chapter was ok, and that it wasn't too out of character. I haven't written in a while, so I kind of forgot how I depicted them. But this felt kind of natural to me, so I think it's ok. But let me know if it just seems too weird.**

**The title is the name of a really good Christmas Carol. The version I'm thinking of is done by Straight No Chaser, so you should go check them out on youtube.**

**Reviews are wonderful. You should write one. :)**


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